An Uncommon Proposal
by rahleeyah
Summary: Fritz and Brenda reach an agreement regarding Brenda's relationship with Sharon, but nothing is ever as easy as it seems.
1. Chapter 1

**This fic has been a super bitch to write. It started as a one-shot in response to one of the Closer headcanons on tumblr (#102, if you're interested) and has quickly grown into something else. Unbeta'd, so all mistakes are mine. More chapters to come. As always, reviews are love. xoxo**

**···**

**Sharon**

She was sitting cross-legged on the couch, staring at her front door. _This __is __a __bad __idea_, she thought, but she didn't move. Her phone was in her pocket; it would be the easiest thing in the world to pick it up, call Brenda, and tell her not to come over.

It would also be the hardest.

Sharon wasn't fooling herself. She knew her heart, knew how she felt, but she also knew how the world worked. Whatever reason Brenda actually had for coming over, Sharon knew the Deputy Chief would move on. The next morning, the next week, the next month, whenever; Brenda would move on and still have her perfect life with her adoring squad and her storybook husband and Sharon would still have nothing. She might even have less than nothing, if she gave Brenda everything she had.

But Brenda had asked if it would be all right if she stopped by, and Sharon had said yes.

She had tried to fortify herself for the upcoming meeting, which would almost certainly be disastrous. She had forgone her usual nightly drink, and had changed from her pristine suit into a pair of blue jeans and a too-big grey sweater. She'd pulled her hair back in a ponytail. She had seriously considered going without make-up as well, but she couldn't bring herself to go quite that far. And besides, she reasoned, there was absolutely no evidence to suggest that Brenda's intentions in coming over tonight were to do anything other than talk.

Except for the fact that it had been exactly one week since Sharon had fucked Brenda against the desk in her office.

She drew her knees up, hugging them against her chest, trying to think about anything else, but she couldn't keep her mind away from the memory of it, the feel of Brenda underneath her, the sound of her muffled cries, the way she-

The doorbell rang.

She knew she had to answer it, and so she did, sliding gracefully to her feet and padding silently across the floor.

Up to the moment her hand turned the doorknob, she thought she was prepared for this. She had a speech planned: "What happened last week was nice, but…" She had known it was wrong the instant her lips collided with the Deputy Chief's, never mind that she'd been wanting to for months, never mind that Brenda had wanted it as badly as she did. Never mind that they hadn't stopped at just a kiss. Oh no, they hadn't stopped until they were both mostly naked and sweaty, gasping their names into each other's necks. It was a mistake, no matter how good it had made her feel, and tonight she had to tell Brenda exactly that.

When Sharon opened the door, she found Brenda shifting anxiously from one foot to the other, her bottom lip caught between her teeth. Sharon thought she looked quite adorable, but she quickly put an end to that train of thought. She had a mission, and she was going to see it through.

"Chief," she murmured quietly, holding the door open a little wider. She thought she might have seen the briefest flicker of disappointment on the other woman's features, but whatever that expression might have been, it quickly disappeared.

"Captain," Brenda answered with a murmur of her own, nodding to her as she slipped past the dark-haired woman and into her house.

Sharon hadn't spent a lot of time thinking about the circumstances under which Brenda would come to her house for the first time. Before the… incident, they had mostly loathed each other, and while that loathing had recently been tempered into a grudging respect, the idea of allowing Brenda Leigh into her personal life had been laughable. In the immediate aftermath of that fateful evening, Sharon had been too disgusted with her own lack of self-control to even contemplate inviting the Deputy Chief over. But when Brenda had swung by her office earlier that morning, offering a cup of coffee and a smile, Sharon had agreed to her request for a chance to talk. And now Brenda was in her home, and the awkward tension that had been bubbling between them for the last week rose to an almost unbearable level in a shockingly brief amount of time.

"Would you like a glass of wine?" Sharon asked, and immediately regretted it. She wanted this conversation to end as quickly as possible, and she didn't want Brenda to think that she was trying to… well, _seduce_ her, because she wasn't, she really wasn't, she just-

"That would be lovely, Captain, thank you," Brenda said with a smile, and Sharon just nodded and turned on her heel, heading for the kitchen. _Too __late __to __back __out __now,_ she thought.

Sharon poured the wine, trying to keep herself focused on the task, and not distracted by the atrocious print of Brenda's skirt, or the warmth of her eyes. Sharon had been spending quite a long time trying not to be distracted by the Deputy Chief, and she had been mostly successful. There was just something about her; her easy confidence in her abilities at work, and the way that juxtaposed with her moments of heart-rending vulnerability, her devotion to her squad and to the cause of justice, her inspiring naiveté when it came to personal matters- everything about the Chief was distracting, like a puzzle Sharon couldn't quite figure out.

She handed Brenda a long-stemmed glass, and took up her own. The glass made a soft clinking sound as they gently tapped them together, and then each took a long drink, as if in toast, though what they possibly had to celebrate Sharon couldn't fathom.

The silence dragged on between them, and Sharon found herself growing impatient with the Chief.

"You said there was something you wanted to discuss?" she asked archly, and when she saw the anxiety wash over Brenda's features she was almost sorry for how heartless she must have sounded.

"Yes, Captain, there was. And I believe you know exactly what I am referring to." Sharon bit back a smile as those dark eyes turned on her.

She simply hummed in response.

"Oh, for heaven's sake!" Brenda actually stomped her foot. Sharon tried not to find that little gesture endearing, but it was difficult. "Captain, you kissed me!"

_Did __a __lot __more __than __that,_ Sharon thought, but she held back her words. She wanted to see what Brenda would say.

Brenda was actually blushing. Furiously. "I guess I just wanted to know where we stood," she added, eyes downcast, and she seemed so lost that the sight actually tugged at Sharon's heartstrings. She put down her glass and reached out, taking the blonde's hand in her own.

"Brenda," she said softly, "I'm so, so sorry," and Brenda jerked her head up to stare into Sharon's eyes, but she couldn't look at her, not yet, not before she'd said what she needed to, "I never meant to put you into this position, and I hope that we can move past this." She finally raised her gaze to meet the Deputy Chief's.

It was a little disconcerting, the way Brenda kept staring into her eyes, but Sharon found she couldn't look away. She didn't want to. She felt as if she were standing on the edge of something, and whichever way she stepped, forwards or back, her life was about to change. What had happened before was an accident. If Sharon dared make the same mistake twice, she would have no excuses for her actions. But Brenda kept looking at her, that unspoken need in her eyes and Sharon couldn't find a way to stop what happened next.

They were standing close to one another, and Sharon was still holding Brenda's hand. They moved together, falling into each other, with a momentum that had been building almost from the moment they met.

**Brenda**

She had so much she still needed to say, so many things she still needed to explain, but the feeling of Sharon's lips on hers again chased all other thoughts from her mind. Brenda had been taken with the dark-haired woman from the first time she saw her, in that hospital waiting room what seemed like lifetimes ago. Sharon had drawn her in in a way she had never experienced before. She had been frightened by how badly she wanted to trace the outline of the other woman's lips with her fingertips, to feel the softness of her skin under her hands, to know what sounds she would make when Brenda touched her. Brenda had tried to ignore it, but over time she found herself almost bound to the immaculate creature whose body was currently pressed flush to Brenda's. Sharon was a challenge, a force to be reckoned with, a reason for Brenda to try harder, be better. Sharon never let her get away with anything, and Brenda admired that about her. Admired her stubbornness, her pride, her steadfast desire to do the right thing.

But this was absolutely not the right thing.

She opened her mouth to Sharon's seeking tongue, and she knew, whatever her intentions might have been, that she was lost.

She reached for the hem of Sharon's grey sweater, and the Captain breathed a quiet sound of permission against her lips. Brenda tugged the heavy garment up and off, revealing the soft expanse of skin that she'd only sampled once before. Sharon smiled at her briefly before returning the favor, gentle fingers finding their way to the buttons of Brenda's shirt. Brenda dropped kisses along her collarbone, tasting her, her hands spanning the other woman's waist. She'd never wanted something this badly before. She thought she had, thought she knew what desire was, but Sharon Raydor had opened up the floodgates in her heart, and she found there was no going back.

Sharon tugged the shirt from Brenda's shoulders, and leaned in to kiss her again, lips sliding against each other as Sharon pulled her closer, let her feel the heat passing back and forth between them, electric, building towards something Brenda didn't want to name.

"Wait," Sharon whispered suddenly, tearing herself away. Brenda's heart nearly stopped, but then she saw Sharon's impish grin. "Not in the kitchen," the dark-haired woman murmured, and turned, leading Brenda by the hand.

Sharon Raydor was shirtless and leading Brenda towards her bedroom.

The room was exactly everything that Brenda wasn't expecting, but then, Sharon so rarely did what Brenda expected her to. The walls were painted a soft yellow, and there was color everywhere, soft splashes of color and more pillows than Brenda could count, a sort of homey warmth emanating from every inch of space, and Brenda knew she wanted to spend as much time in that sanctuary as she possibly could.

Sharon kept leading her forward until they collapsed on the bed alongside each other. Brenda reached out and gently laid a hand on Sharon's cheek, marveling at how she'd wound up in this situation, and hoping against hope that it wouldn't end any time soon.

Brenda closed the space between them, needing to feel Sharon again. Kisses with Sharon were so different from any Brenda had ever experienced before; it felt like Sharon was trying to slide inside her, become a part of her, and Brenda wanted her to.

"Please." Brenda wasn't sure which one of them said it; if it was Sharon, then the woman had learned how to read her mind. She slid an arm around the warm body pressed against hers, fingers fumbling and searching until she found the clasp of Sharon's bra. She flipped it open, and Sharon shimmied out of it, tossing the slip of fabric to the side before attacking Brenda's pulse point with her lips, tongue and teeth. Brenda shuddered, wanting a thousand different things at once, rejoicing silently when she felt Sharon's fingers on her back, divesting her of her own bra and tossing it in the same general direction.

Never one to sit back and let someone else to take control, Brenda flipped them easily, coming to rest astride Sharon's denim clad hips. Her immediate first thought was that the blue jeans had to go, but there were so many other things she wanted to do first. She was distracted from her task, however, by the simple radiance of Sharon Raydor.

Her Captain was smiling up at her, raising her hands to run her fingers through Brenda's hair in a distinctly affectionate gesture. Brenda's stomach did an odd little flip-flop. If all she felt for Sharon was a physical attraction, it wouldn't be so hard to stay professional. The problem was she felt so much more than that. Sharon had supported her through this Goldman mess, had proven herself to be a person Brenda could trust explicitly. There were so few people Brenda knew she could trust these days, and most of those people worked for her. Sharon didn't work for her; Sharon was one of the few people in the world who could actually keep up with her, who matched her level of single-minded focus.

Sharon's hand mimicked Brenda's earlier gesture, resting against her cheek, and Brenda turned her head ever so slightly, kissing the soft skin of her palm.

"How did this happen?" Sharon asked with a sigh, and Brenda almost laughed. She'd been wondering the same thing.

"I blame you," Brenda answered, leaning forward, peppering kisses along Sharon's jaw. "You charmed me." She didn't mean for the words to sound like an accusation, but they almost were. Sharon Raydor had somehow managed to wrap Brenda completely around her little finger.

**Sharon **

Brenda's lips continued their journey down from Sharon's jaw to the peak of her breast, and Sharon shamelessly wound her fingers in the other woman's long blonde hair, holding her head close against her skin. Brenda's kisses were fire, trailing across her skin, and Sharon wanted to be burned alive.

She tried to think of something clever to say in response to Brenda's "you charmed me" comment, but the feeling of Brenda's lips wrapping around her nipple stole the breath from her lungs. She could feel her need building, shifting, changing, becoming something she couldn't deny any longer. Without thinking her fingers found their way to Brenda's waist, searching for the zipper of the blonde's skirt.

Evidently that was not a part of Brenda's current plan, because the blonde pulled away. The loss of her warmth drew an unhappy sound from Sharon's throat, but Brenda just smirked down at her.

"Not yet, Captain," Brenda chided her, and Sharon made a mental note to tell her later that they really shouldn't use their ranks when they were in bed together. Of course that made it sound like they were going to spend a lot more time in bed together, which wasn't exactly what Sharon had intended.

Brenda was sliding down her body, and once again Sharon found her doubts giving way to a desire to just allow Brenda to do whatever she wanted, so long as that meant they were naked together.

Slender fingers were toying with the button of Sharon's jeans, and the Captain lifted her hips obligingly. Brenda hooked her fingers in the waistband of both her jeans and her panties, and tugged them down the length of Sharon's legs, depositing them in a pile on the floor. Brenda leaned forward, moving back up Sharon's body, hands trailing along the length of her legs. Sharon sighed again, resigned to being patient for the time being.

"What am I going to do with you?" Brenda said, nipping playfully at her jaw, and Sharon smirked back at her.

"Whatever it is, you better get on with it, or I'll find someone else who will," she told her, and Brenda laughed. Laughter wasn't a sound Sharon had heard from Brenda much before, and she found she liked it. She liked the way Brenda's face lit up when she was genuinely amused. She wanted to see that expression on her face more often.

"Yes, ma'am," Brenda said with a grin, and Sharon wished for the briefest moment that she had that on tape. She would love to play it back for Brenda later, just to remind her of this moment.

Brenda's hands had clearly decided what they wanted to do- one was toying with Sharon's nipple while the other was headed steadily southward. She slipped her fingers over the skin of Sharon's stomach, down through the thatch of auburn curls, and into the warmth between her legs. Sharon bucked up underneath her, making a small sound as Brenda cupped her sex, thumb trailing gentle circles around her clit. She couldn't stop the moan the escaped her lips, and once again, Brenda laughed, a small, joyous little sound.

This was so different from their hurried tryst in the office. Before it had been about overwhelming need, their actions rushed by a fear of getting caught, a fear of stopping long enough to actually think things through. They'd been hasty, not taking the time to enjoy each other, and practically running away by the time they were finished. This, though, this was different. Tonight they had all the time in the world, and they moved slower, reveling in the feeling. Brenda's lips found their way back to Sharon's, and Sharon shifted, wrapping one arm around Brenda's back, the other sneaking between them so she could knead the soft mound of Brenda's breast. The Chief made an appreciative sound in the back of her throat that reverberated through Sharon's chest, and she smiled against her lips.

Brenda's fingers brushed down through Sharon's wetness, one slender digit sliding up and into her, and Sharon moaned into her mouth. The Chief didn't stop kissing her, their tongues moving against each other with a building tempo to match the rhythm Brenda was setting with her fingers. Slow, so achingly slow, so exactly what Sharon needed from her, Brenda moved, adding a second finger and then a third as she felt Sharon open up to her.

_So __close,_ Sharon thought.

"So close," she gasped against Brenda's mouth, and there was that damnable smile again.

"Tell me what you need, Sharon," Brenda answered her, fingers still pumping slowly in and out, her palm just grazing Sharon's clit as she moved.

"Harder, please, just harder," Sharon managed to gasp before Brenda's lips descended on hers again. Apparently in a mood to please, Brenda did as she asked, her fingers pushing deep, deep inside, pulling out only to thrust back in again, guided with the force of her own hips, over and over, until Sharon was writhing underneath her. The Chief slid her mouth away from Sharon's and back to her breast, latching onto the soft skin there, until finally with one last thrust she had Sharon crying out, fingers twisted in the sheets, as she rode out the waves of her orgasm.

Sharon couldn't remember why she ever thought this was a bad idea.

**Brenda**

It was hours later when Brenda found herself roused from sleep by the gentle press of lips against her shoulder. She smiled softly to herself before she rolled over, face-to-face with a slightly rumpled and utterly adorable Sharon Raydor. The woman seemed different like this, covered only by the same sheet that Brenda was wrapped in, her hair a tangled mess and her eyes half closed.

"I wasn't sure if you really wanted to stay the night," Sharon said softly, and Brenda's heart ached for her. She remembered what that felt like, when she was the one sleeping with a married man, and all she wanted was for him to stay, even when she knew that he should go home to his wife.

Brenda leaned forward, kissing Sharon lightly. "It's ok," she said. "Fritz knows I'm here."

Which was, it seemed, _exactly_ the wrong thing to say.

Sharon shot upright so fast it made Brenda feel a little dizzy, dragging the sheet up to cover the swell of her breasts. "What do you mean?" she asked.

And there it was. Yes, this little get-together had been Fritz's idea, but Brenda hadn't shared that particular piece of information with Sharon yet, and she wasn't quite sure how Sharon would take it.

"I told Fritz that I had… feelings, for you," she said, sitting up and mimicking Sharon's posture, though she made no effort to cover herself.

"You did what?"

"I know, it sounds crazy. But I can't ignore the way I feel about you, and it isn't fair to Fritz-"

"Did you tell him that we had sex?" Sharon's eyes were drilling holes in Brenda, but she wouldn't back down.

"No, I didn't." Sharon made an unhappy noise. "But he said he understood. In fact, me coming over here was his idea."

Brenda immediately regretted her words. Sharon was out of the bed in an instant, crossing the room and pulling on the robe that dangled by a hook near the door.

"You coming over here to talk, or you coming over here to have sex with me?" Sharon asked, her voice carrying the icy-calm tone Brenda had begun to associate with Sharon in full Captain Bitch Raydor mode.

"Sharon-"

"Oh my God. He gave you permission. To fuck me. This is unbelievable."

"Oh, and you'd be happier if he didn't know? If I was just cheating on him?" Brenda wasn't sure how this night that had started out so well had gone so badly so quickly. It was like watching a building explode.

"Yes!" Sharon exclaimed. "Yes, I would! God, Brenda, do you really think he's ok with this? Whatever he told you, do you really think your husband doesn't mind you sleeping with me? What would you do if Fritz told you he had feelings for someone else?"

Sharon's questions tore at Brenda in a way she wasn't expecting. She'd been so focused on getting what she wanted, she was beginning to realize she hadn't thought this all the way through. What had started as minor problem had devolved into a full-blown disaster, and she found she had no one to blame but herself.

The Captain spun on her heel and disappeared through the door in a haze of pale blue silk and tousled hair.

**Fritz**

A thousand thoughts flitted through his mind, a thousand possibilities, turning his stomach and throwing him off balance. It was late, late enough that he knew she wouldn't be coming home tonight. He had hoped, in the beginning, when this whole goddamn thing got started, that Brenda Leigh would come home. That she would do what Brenda Leigh always did when it came to her personal life- take what she wanted, ruin everything, and then demand that someone else fix it for her. Fritz was more than happy to clean up her messes, so long as she slept in his bed at the end of the night.

Only tonight, she wasn't coming home.

He was leaning against the kitchen counter, staring at a bottle of wine on the table.

Wine was never his drink. Before his addiction spiraled out of hand, all wine had ever done for him was make him maudlin and sleepy. And by the time he became a full-fledged alcoholic, a bottle of wine never seemed like enough. He liked whiskey, scotch, bourbon, the stuff the cops in all his favorite movies drank to wash away their sins.

He hadn't had a drop of any of it in years, but damn if his selfish little wife didn't have a small horde of wine bottles tucked in every available nook and cranny of their kitchen. He worried about her some days, he really did. He could count on his fingers the number of times he'd seen her drunk enough to pass out in the last seven years, but he could also count on those same fingers the number of nights Brenda Leigh hadn't ended with at least one very large glass of Merlot. Some times it takes an addict to recognize the signs.

Which, interestingly enough, was how he'd discovered Brenda Leigh's other little… problem in the first place.

He continued to stare at the bottle of wine. He was maudlin enough without it, any more and he'd be bordering on melancholic. Wine was never his drink of choice, but on a night like this, with the reality of what his life had become weighing down on him, alone in his home with the cat he'd bought for his wife, any fucking drink would do.

And that scared him.

Brenda brought out parts of his personality that downright terrified him at times. Before she'd shown up in L.A. all those years ago, he'd only been going to one meeting a month. He was happy. He slept well.

And now?

Well, now he was staring at a bottle of wine seriously contemplating getting roaring drunk for the first time in a decade while his wife was out fucking another woman _with __his __permission._

It had been his idea, this little experiment. Fritz loved Brenda. Sharon wanted to fuck Brenda. Brenda loved Fritz and wanted to fuck Sharon. Fritz decided that it would be best for everyone if the two of them just got it out of their system. Then Brenda wouldn't constantly be distracted by the prospect of sleeping with Sharon, and their lives could return to some kind of normalcy.

Except that Fritz hadn't expected her to spend the night.

He hadn't actually asked her if she would, and she hadn't said one way or the other. She had discretely packed a change of clothes into her obscenely large purse when she thought he wasn't looking, but that could have meant anything. She had kissed him soundly before she left, whispering that she loved him before she disappeared and he closed the door behind her. She hadn't dressed up, but then why should she? The whole point of the evening was for her to be undressed.

With Sharon Raydor.

For one moment Fritz wondered what would have happened if the tables were turned. If there was someone Fritz felt the same gravitational pull toward that Brenda seemed to feel for Sharon. Would Brenda let him sleep with someone else, in order to save their relationship?

He actually laughed out loud at the prospect. No, if he had even broached the subject with her she probably would have left him. She didn't share well, and she didn't like coming in second place. There would have been tears, screaming; she probably would have hit him, actually, but Brenda would rather leave him than let him fuck someone else.

And Fritz would rather let Brenda fuck someone else than leave her.

_What the hell has happened to us? _

He was still staring at that damnable bottle of wine.

How could he possibly love her this much? Fritz wasn't one of those "civilized" people who believed in open-marriages and threesomes and shit like that. Fritz was a man who believed in the vows he had taken. Was he a little possessive? The way his hackles raised every time Will Pope came within ten feet of Brenda was proof enough that Fritz wanted to keep her to himself. But faced with the prospect of losing her altogether, he hadn't stood his ground. He had faltered, and then crumbled beneath the fear of going on without her.

It wasn't just that he was used to her now. Used to her mess, her temper, her sweetness, her smile, the feel of her next to him in the morning… yes, he was used to her, and to try to live without the thousand little moments that had become part of their routine together would be difficult. But more than that, he _needed_ her now. She was the other part of himself, the slightly silly, incredibly warm, vivacious part that had sort of died before she came along.

Without her, who would he be?

_Without __her,_ he reasoned, _I__'__d __be __alone __in __my __kitchen __on __a __Friday __night __staring __at __a __bottle __of __wine._


	2. Chapter 2

**Brenda**

She stared at the place where Sharon used to be, shivering in the cold that had enveloped her with Sharon's absence. She knew she needed to get up, to follow after the dark-haired woman, to explain herself, but she found she had no words to fix this situation, and no one to call on for help.

What could she possibly do? What could she say? Before this whole debacle had occurred, Brenda thought that Sharon might be a little miffed, might feel a little tawdry, but she never anticipated the anger that had rolled off the Captain in waves. And what worried her now, more than Sharon's outburst, more than Fritz's disappointment, more than her own confusion, was the possible source of all that anger. Why would it matter?

There were reasons why, of course, and as each of those possibilities dawned on Brenda, she became more and more concerned about the pile of shit she had just made of her relationship with Sharon. She crawled out of bed and tugged on her shirt, not bothering with the buttons before she rushed after her green-eyed Captain, hoping it wasn't too late to fix what she had broken.

**Sharon**

_Stupid, stupid, so stupid, what the hell were you thinking, stupid…_

Sharon's thoughts were a whirl of rage directed at no one but herself as she banged around her kitchen, making a pot of coffee regardless of the absurd hour. It was coffee or wine, and at this point she felt coffee was the better option. Even with her heart in pieces and her self-respect long forgotten, Sharon Raydor made the sensible choice.

Someone had to.

Sharon shook her head, trying to clear away the thoughts that wouldn't leave her alone. Thoughts like _what __did __you __expect? __Did __you __really __think __she __would __sacrifice __her __marriage __for __you? __Did __you __really __think __you __mattered __that __much __to __Brenda __Leigh?_

Of course Brenda wouldn't risk losing Fritz over something as silly as sex with Sharon. The Captain just had tangible proof now that it was sex, and sex only, that the Chief was interested in. But why did that upset her so much?

What did she really want from Brenda, anyway?

_Jesus, Sharon, don't do this to yourself._

"Sharon?" Brenda's voice sounded small and almost defeated, and it took every ounce of self-restraint Sharon had left not to turn around at the sound of it.

_Don't do this to yourself, Sharon. Don't give in._

"Sharon, please, look at me."

_God damn it._

She turned around, and found Brenda leaning in the doorway of the kitchen, wearing nothing but her panties and an unbuttoned shirt. She looked so perfect and so sad, and Sharon fought the urge to throw something. _It__'__s __all __my __fault. __Wanting __what __I __can__'__t __have__…_

"I'm sorry," Brenda said, and Sharon laughed.

"Please," she said, turning back to her coffee, "You're not sorry. You're sorry I'm angry, you're sorry things didn't go like you planned, but you're not really sorry. You don't even know why I'm upset, do you?"

There was a soft sound from somewhere behind her. _She__'__s __actually __crying._

"You got what you wanted, Chief. Now I think it's time for you to go."

_Please go. Please leave before I do something I'm going to regret. Like pull you close and tell you it's ok._

"I don't want to go, Sharon," Brenda said, doing an admirable job of keeping her voice steady.

Sharon had her mouth open to say something clever about how you don't always get what you want when the muffled sound of a cell phone ringing broke through the silence.

And that was the last thing Sharon needed right now. Sure, work would be a good excuse to get the hell out of this mess, but it would only be a temporary refuge, and lately Sharon had found that even at work she could not hide from Brenda. That woman had invaded every aspect of her life. Even now, if Brenda left and they never spoke of this again, it would be months before Sharon could sleep in her bed and not remember how it had felt to have Brenda Leigh sleeping next to her.

"I think that's yours, Chief," Sharon told her softly, taking a deep swig of her coffee. It was too hot and burned her tongue on the way down, but she didn't care. Better to focus on that small physical pain than the ache that had developed in her heart.

"Please just stay here. I want to talk to you. Just stay," Brenda said before rushing off for the front hallway where she had left her massive purse.

_Stay? What am I, a dog? Stay?_

Sharon followed her on quiet feet, clutching her too-hot mug of coffee in unsteady hands.

Brenda was standing by the front door, running her fingers through her tangled hair.

"Yes, Lieutenant," she was saying, "I understand… ok… well how did he-" the Lieutenant in question had clearly interrupted her, she had that expression on her face that Sharon had come to understand as her version of exasperation, "It sounds like you've got a good handle on the situation. You can manage everything until I get there…all right. Text me the address and I'll get there as soon as I can."

Brenda hung up and turned to face Sharon, clutching the phone in her hands.

**Brenda**

This was the last thing she needed right now. Work, and not just work, but what was shaping up to be a shit storm of a case, one that would involve Sharon's team, too, and she hadn't even had a chance to figure out what was happening between herself and the dark haired Captain. The dark haired Captain who was currently staring directly at her, radiant in her too-short robe and her mask of disinterest only just hiding the hurt in her deep green eyes.

_You don't even know why I'm upset, do you?_

Sharon's words had stung, because they carried the smallest grain of truth. Brenda wasn't entirely sure why her confession had bothered Sharon so much. If Fritz knew that they were sleeping together, and he'd said it was ok, wasn't that was a good thing? Surely that meant they could carry on together and not worry about the consequences.

Didn't it?

Was that not what Sharon wanted?

What did Sharon want?

"You're probably going to get a call soon, too," Brenda told her, hating for an instant the way she dove straight into work, forgetting the personal for the time being. That always bothered Fritz, and she had the sneaking suspicion it was going to bother Sharon, too.

Sharon just hummed and turned on her heel, heading for the bedroom. Brenda followed her, making a list of the things she needed to do. This conversation was going to have to wait.

They had just passed through the doorway, the second time that night they walked into Sharon's bedroom together- although the mood was markedly different now- when Sharon's phone did in fact begin to ring. Brenda tossed her cell onto the bed before she began digging around for her clothes, pulling them back on and only halfway listening to Sharon's conversation.

The words seemed particularly terse, Sharon's tone even more cold than usual, and Brenda felt a stab of guilt, knowing that she was responsible for it. She felt even more guilty when she caught herself trying to discreetly stare at Sharon as the Captain slipped out of her robe.

_God __she__'__s __gorgeous,_ Brenda thought. _Gorgeous __and __smart __and __strong, __and __I__'__ve __hurt __her._

Sharon hung up on whichever unfortunate member of her squad she'd been talking to, and dropped her phone on the bed next to Brenda's. She sighed and went to her closet, shuffling through the expensive suits and pristine skirts, trying to get herself ready for the task ahead.

_What __do __I do __now? _Brenda thought. They were going to the same crime scene, they were going to work together, they were going to have to figure this out. But what to do? What to say?

"Sharon?" she asked, testing the waters. She needed to know that this was ok, that they were ok. That whatever was between them wasn't going to end tonight.

"You should go ahead and leave, Chief," Sharon answered, not turning around as she slipped into a fresh pair of panties, and Brenda tried not to stare at the way the lace hugged her hips. If that was the kind of underwear Sharon wore to crime scenes at three in the morning, Brenda couldn't imagine what she wore when she went out.

Actually, she could imagine, and the picture sent a thrill through Brenda's spin, accompanied by another wave of guilt. She'd hurt this woman, and all she could think about was how beautiful she was, and how badly she wanted to hold her again. She wanted to go back in time, to the start of the night, when everything was working the way it should and they were just together and she had felt… damn it, she had felt free.

"We shouldn't arrive too close together," Sharon said.

_Damn her for always being right._

Brenda was already dressed, anyway. There was no point in waiting around for Sharon.

"All right. I'll see you there, Sharon," Brenda told her. That woman could call her "Chief" as much as she wanted to, but Brenda had caught a glimpse of the real Sharon, and she wasn't going to lose her to the aloof Captain Raydor again. Brenda picked up her phone off the bed, and headed out of the bedroom, waiting for a response that never came.

**Sharon**

Sharon slipped into her heels and grabbed her phone, forcing herself to move a little slower than usual to give Bren- the Chief a head start. She contemplated taking her coffee with her, but decided against it. She didn't trust her hands to stay steady enough to drink it in the car without spilling it on herself.

She was almost out of the bedroom when she noticed it, a scrap of black cloth peeking out from under the corner of her bed.

_Oh __for __the __love __of __God,_ she thought as she bent down to pick it up.

Brenda's underwear. The woman had run off without her goddamn panties.

Sharon found herself faced with a dilemma. She could either slip them in her purse and try to find a moment to discreetly pass them back to the Chief, or she could leave them here, and make Brenda come pick them up, though that would mean giving the blonde an excuse to come back to her house, and Sharon absolutely did not want that. She felt like a first class fool for the way she had allowed herself to behave, and her wounded pride wouldn't let her so much as entertain the notion of bringing Brenda back to her home. With a sigh she decided to take the panties with her, and slipped them into her bag before heading out the door.

Sergeant Elliot had sent her directions to the crime scene, and so she climbed into her car, trying to pretend that she was ready for whatever was ahead. She would be professional, she would remain calm, she would not let her personal life affect her job.

She _couldn__'__t_ let it affect her job.

**Andy**

The Chief still wasn't there, and he was getting antsy. The media circus had shown up almost the same time he had, and between wrangling the Major Crimes squad, trying to keep FID out of the way, and the reporters shouting at him, his nerves were shot. He needed the Chief, and he needed her now, if for no other reason than that all of these problems could be dumped onto her, and he could get back to actually doing his job. He fished his phone out of his pocket and called her, hoping she hadn't gotten lost. Her sense of direction had improved greatly over the last few years, but he still had his doubts in her abilities.

"Raydor," a familiar voice answered, and Andy jumped, pulling his phone away from his ear and staring at it in horror. He had called the right number, so why in the hell had the Captain answered?

"Sharon?" he asked, her first name slipping out as it sometimes did when he was too surprised to remember that they weren't supposed to be friends anymore.

"Andy?" she responded, sounding equally shocked. "Did you need something?"

"I needed the Chief. Why the hell are you answering her phone?"

"Shit," she said softly, so softly he almost missed it. "Shit," she said again, a little louder this time.

He checked his watch. Just after three on a Friday morning, and Sharon was answering the Chief's phone? Andy couldn't exactly picture them going out for a friendly drink, or really doing anything that would explain them being in the same place at this time of night besides work, and neither of them had arrived at the crime scene yet.

And then it dawned him, the only possible explanation, not just for this night, but for all the nights that had come before it, for the tension and the lingering glances and the way Sharon had, every once in a while, let down her guard and he had caught sight of an expression he had not seen on her face for many years. They had been close, once, and he knew her as well as anyone. Probably better than anyone, these days, and he had often caught himself wondering if perhaps the Captain wasn't a bit smitten with the Deputy Chief. Never mind that Brenda was so not her type; Sharon generally went for taller women, redheads usually, who liked classical music and expensive wine and talked about foreign films. Women more like Sharon herself. Women who were not married.

There was no way she was _sleeping_ with the Chief, right?

"Sharon, what the hell-"

"Andy, please, just don't tell anybody, I'm almost there," she sounded a little desperate, and a lot tired, and he found himself wishing she were here. The answers to his questions would have been written all over her face for Andy, who was one of the few people in the world who could actually see past her defenses.

"I just hope for your sake you weren't doing what I think you were doing," he told her. She huffed and hung up, leaving him staring at the glow screen of his cell phone.

_God I hope she wasn't doing what I think she was doing._

She deserved so much better than that, and he was going to tell her so as soon as he saw her.


	3. Chapter 3

**Brenda**

On her way out of Sharon's house she had stopped in the bathroom, trying desperately to scrub the scent of Sharon off her skin, but as she put her car in park and stepped out to face the horde of reporters and her own harried squad, she wished she hadn't. She wished she still had some small piece of Sharon to hold onto, something better than the memory of Sharon's face when she'd left. The pain she'd seen there was too much for Brenda to bear tonight, and she knew she only had a few minutes before Sharon herself showed up. Captain Raydor, in her perfect pressed suit and her quiet sadness.

_Stop this,_ she thought. _You can't fix this now. Focus._

Odd, really, that Brenda had to tell herself to focus on work. Usually, work was the only thing she _could _focus on. And now? Now all she could see were dark green eyes, tousled hair, kiss-me lips whispering exactly the words she wanted to hear, all the parts of Sharon she would never see again because she had been so selfish.

This wasn't what she'd intended when she told Fritz about her situation with Sharon. She hadn't seen this coming. She hadn't anticipated his suggestion that she go to Sharon, and she hadn't anticipated Sharon's disgust at the proposal. Sharon, who was more than happy to fuck her on her desk, but who was incensed at the notion that Fritz condoned their little… fling.

What the hell was that about anyway?

_FOCUS._

Brenda could see Flynn eyeing her across the crime scene tape, but he made no move to get her attention. He seemed to be watching her, not with his usual half-smirk, but with an expression that bordered dangerously on disgust. She glanced furtively over her shoulder, looking to see if a reporter or maybe Commander Taylor was following her, but there was no one. Surely he wasn't looking at her with that much loathing? What the hell had she done to him?

_Focus on the job, Brenda. You can deal with Flynn later._

She really didn't have the energy to deal with other people's emotions right now, but she had to speak with him, and so she tilted her chin up defiantly and headed straight for the tense Lieutenant.

He was leaning up against the side of a dilapidated building, officers milling about everywhere as he remained a solitary figure of inactivity. His eyes narrowed as she approached, and he began gnawing on the end of his toothpick forcefully. The toothpicks hadn't made an appearance for quite sometime, a coping mechanism he didn't seem to need so much anymore, but here he was, toothpick firmly in place, and there was something in his eyes that made Brenda wonder if maybe it was her fault he needed them again. Made her wonder what it was they served as a substitute for.

"Lieutenant," she nodded to him as she approached.

"Chief," he grunted, not bothering to stand up straight. "Nice of you to join us."

_Oh, for heaven's sake._

"Can you walk me through what happened here?"

He shrugged and pushed himself upright, wandering off towards the entrance to the same old building he'd been leaning up against. She fought the urge to stamp her foot at his attitude, but she contained herself, simply following along behind him and waiting for him to begin to speak.

He led her inside the faintly reeking building and finally sketched in the details for her; one police officer dead, one missing, two dead bodies with no guns and no identification.

He was still talking when she sensed it, felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up the way they always did whenever someone was staring at her. She spun around on her heel and her eyes immediately landed on the forlorn form of Sharon Raydor, hugging herself against the early morning chill.

**Sharon **

She could have kicked herself the moment Brenda's eyes found her. Stupid, really, to be hanging in the doorway staring at Brenda Leigh like a love struck teenager with the woman's cell phone and panties tucked safely away in her own purse. Even more stupid, when she considered the fact that she had been foolish enough to entertain the notion, for however brief a time, that Brenda might care about her, before Brenda had so graciously set her straight.

_Me coming over here was his idea…_ Brenda's words echoed in Sharon's mind. _He probably gets off on the idea,_ she thought grimly, wishing she could just stop staring at the Chief already.

_Pull yourself together, Sharon. Brenda Leigh doesn't care about you. She doesn't want to leave her husband for you. She wants to fuck you and then go on her merry way._

Sharon squared her shoulders and crooked her finger at the blonde. "Chief Johnson, may I have a moment?"

The Chief sighed and her shoulders sagged, but she nodded glumly and began her approach without a word of protest. As she progressed from the middle of the big empty room where the bodies lay, Sharon took the time to look around, and her eyes inevitably fell on Andy Flynn. Andy Flynn, who was staring daggers at the Chief's back.

_Oh, for the love of God,_ Sharon thought, _Just what I need. Andy Flynn in overprotective alpha male mode. _

She turned her back and exited the building, not waiting for Brenda to catch up.

**Brenda**

Brenda trailed along behind her Captain, trying to come up with something to say. Perhaps just an explanation of the case, perhaps a brief apology; she found it difficult, however, to string together any words that would adequately convey the guilt, and, strangely enough, the fear she had felt upon seeing how badly she'd hurt her green-eyed Captain.

Sharon had no interest in whatever Brenda was about to say. She reached into her purse, pulled out a small object, and handed it to Brenda, her fingers jerking back quickly, avoiding Brenda's skin.

"I'm not sure how it happened, and frankly I don't care, but I have your phone," she said by way of explanation as Brenda took it from her, staring at her blankly.

Sharon rolled her eyes.

"I think that means that you have _mine_, Chief," she said, voice dripping with disdain, and this felt familiar. This felt like stepping back in time to their first meeting. _Be careful where you place your sympathies, Chief. _

Sharon's eyes were dark and cutting in the early morning darkness, offering no sympathy, only a glimpse of the woman's pride, battered but in tact. Brenda thrust her hand into her own purse, digging around, overcome now not with embarrassment but with her own feelings of scorn. What right did Sharon have to look at her that way, as if Brenda was some dirty thing, a stray dog who wandered up to her door looking for scraps?

She retrieved the phone and handed it over without a word. Across the patch of dead grass she could see Sergeant Elliot approaching, and watched Sharon straighten her shoulders.

"Oh, and Chief," the Captain added, you left something else of yours behind, as well."

Brenda's heart skidded to a stop.

Sharon might have been trying to smirk, but there was too much sadness behind her eyes for the expression to have its intended effect.

This wasn't how Brenda had planned it; had she shamelessly slipped off her panties and hid them in Sharon's room? Yes. Her plan had been simple: they rushed off to work, Sharon would find the offending article when she got home, and they would be forced to have a conversation, whether at Sharon's home, in Brenda's office, in some dark parking garage on the other side of town, wherever; they would have a conversation and Brenda would have a chance to fix this.

Except it was obvious now that Sharon had found her panties, and maybe that mythical conversation would never happen at all.

"I-I-I-," Brenda stammered, but Sharon held up a hand, simultaneously silencing the Chief and beckoning Sergeant Elliot closer.

"I will give them back to you as soon as you and I are in private. And Chief, I don't appreciate this sort of behavior," she said, her voice rising in volume just a touch there at the end. Elliot could hear her say that bit; he'd heard her say worse to the Chief before.

Brenda had felt so much in the last few hours she wasn't sure she had any feelings left to spare for her green-eyed Captain. She shrugged her shoulders and walked away, fingers wrapped tightly around her phone. That new phone she'd gotten, right after Sharon upgraded her own, because she was forever amazed at all the little tricks the Captain could pull with that little piece of technology. Amazed, and a little jealous, and she wanted to learn how to do those things, too.

But she'd never figured out how to do more than call and text on the damn thing, and even that Fritz had to teach her.

She wandered away, resolutely ignoring the sound of Elliot explaining the situation to Sharon. She was already tired of this night, of the blood, and the tears she'd already cried.

Brenda still couldn't quite believe she'd done that; cried in Sharon's kitchen, while the Captain made a pot of coffee and kept her back turned.

_Get yourself under control, Brenda,_ she thought.

**Andy**

Andy approached Sharon quietly, not wanting to speak to her until Elliot was out of the way. He had a few choice words for his one time friend, most of them having to do with what a bad idea it was to fuck the Chief.

Not that he hadn't considered it himself a time or two; Brenda was a good-looking woman. She was quick, she was ruthless, she believed in things. The same things Andy himself believed in. And they'd make a damn attractive couple, if it weren't for the two small problems Andy had found so far: 1) the Chief was married to a man who obviously loved her and 2) Sharon and Brenda would kill each other. A week, a month; it didn't matter how long it took, it was going to happen. This was going nowhere good.

And he couldn't shake the feeling that if their relationship imploded, it wouldn't be Sharon who hurt Brenda. And the thought of anyone, anyone at all, hurting Sharon…well, if Brenda were a man, he probably would have hit her by now.

He tried, for a moment, to convince himself that the mix-up with the phones was nothing, a simple mistake, but he'd watched their faces when Sharon turned up. He recognized that look.

She'd looked at him that way once.

Sharon barked out an order and Elliot marched off to fulfill it, and Andy took that moment to step up to the dark-haired woman.

"Andy," she said quietly, her voice as threatening as she could make it at 4 in the morning, "whatever it is you're going to say, I don't want to hear it."

He had a whole speech worked out, but she seemed so damned tired. He found all his righteous anger had suddenly dissipated, to be replaced only by sympathy. He reached out and squeezed her shoulder briefly.

"Be careful, Sharon," he said quietly. "I don't want to see you get hurt."


	4. Chapter 4

**Sharon **

The knock on her door was unwelcome, if not unexpected. She knew Brenda would come to see her, and she knew that no amount of wishing could keep this sure-to-be unpleasant meeting from taking place. After all, Brenda's panties were still wadded up in the bottom of her Coach purse. She ran a tired hand over face and called out in a voice that expressed her displeasure, "Come in!"

The door opened immediately, revealing a thoroughly rumpled and contrite-looking Brenda Leigh, juggling two steaming cups of coffee in her hands.

"A peace offering," Brenda explained, approaching Sharon's desk like a supplicant and gently placing her offering before the Captain. Sharon knew she should say thank you, but the words stuck in her throat. She reached for the coffee and took a sip, momentarily grateful to discover that it was strong and black. Barely three hours of sleep had given way to a hell of a morning, and Sharon needed all the help she could get to make it through the rest of the day. Not even 10 am and she had already managed to make Brenda cry, piss off Andy Flynn, and earn herself at least two death threats (that she knew of) from her righteously angry fellow officers. Days like today made Sharon seriously reconsider her chosen career path.

She reached for her bag and produced the offending article of clothing. The knowledge that she carried the tiny scrap of fabric in her bag had weighed heavy as a brick on her mind all morning, and she would be glad to be rid of it. She needed to focus on other things, not Brenda Leigh's panties and how they had come into her possession.

She extended her arm across the desk and Brenda quickly snatched the panties away from her, stuffing them inside her purse, but she didn't leave.

Sharon desperately wanted her to leave.

The silence dragged on until, defeated, Brenda collapsed into the chair opposite Sharon's desk with a heavy sigh.

"I feel like I owe you an explanation," she said and Sharon fought the urge to laugh out loud.

_You owe me a lot more than that,_ she thought, but she said nothing.

Brenda waited for a response, some form of encouragement, but finding none, she simply steeled herself and barreled forward.

"I did leave that," she gestured towards her purse, apparently incapable of actually saying the word, "at your house on purpose. I needed to talk to you. I think you got the wrong idea," she continued, "And I wanted to explain why I…did what I did."

Sharon thought she knew _exactly_ why Brenda did what she did, but she held her tongue. She was interested to see how Brenda planned to talk her way out of this one.

"I didn't tell Fritz about what happened between us last week," she began haltingly, and Sharon was once again surprised by the shocking naiveté the Deputy Chief possessed. _The woman actually can't say the words_, she thought. She wanted to grab Brenda by the shoulders and scream, "We had sex! Twice!" but she refrained. As cathartic as that may have been, she was morbidly curious as to what Brenda might possibly have to say.

"Fritz figured it out himself," the blonde said. "On Thursday night he just walked right up to me and said, 'what's going on with you and Sharon Raydor?' And I thought he was talking about work so I just started complaining about you impeding my investigation, but he stopped me. He told me I look at you like he used to look at a fifth of scotch. The one thing in the world you know you can't have, but the one thing you know is going to make you feel better."

Sharon stared at her. This was unexpected. She still hadn't said a word, but she found she had nothing to say. How could she possibly answer a statement like that?

"I didn't know what to say," Brenda continued, and though the blonde's gaze was fixed on her face, Sharon found she couldn't keep eye contact. She knew what those brown eyes could do to her, and she wanted no part of it.

"I didn't know what to say because that was exactly how I felt. I mean, for heaven's sake… in my office!" _She still can't say it,_ Sharon thought bemusedly. "That's not something I do, Sharon."

As if Sharon just went around fucking people on their desks all the time.

"And that's when he came up with this solution. He said that sometimes you want something so badly you think you'll die without it, but once you get it you realize it isn't what you want after all. He said some people throw their marriages away and then realize too late what they've done. He didn't want to lose me, but he didn't want to go through life dealing with me wanting someone else. I think he thinks I just need to get you out of my system."

And there it was. Exactly what Sharon had been dreading- the sure and certain knowledge that all Brenda wanted from her was sex. She wasn't sure when exactly she had decided that she wanted more than that from the Deputy Chief, but she had, and if this morning was proof of nothing else, it had demonstrated to Sharon that Brenda had become someone who could hurt her. Badly.

"What he doesn't know is that I'd had you already," Brenda pushed forward, and Sharon blanched at her choice of words. "Sharon," she said, "you're not something I need to get out of my system. You're just something I need. And I don't know why, but I _need_ to talk to you. I need to hear your voice. I need to see your face, your smile. It… I can't keep going knowing that I've hurt you. I need so much more than just sex-" she finally said the word- "from you. You mean everything to me," Brenda finished her little speech and sat back expectantly.

Sharon felt as though she'd punched in the gut. Brenda was chewing on her bottom lip, eyes shining with the sincerity of her emotions. _You're just something I need; _the words echoed in Sharon's mind. It was exactly what she wanted to hear from the blonde, and exactly what she was afraid of. Hating Brenda was easy. This emotion, this complicated things.

Her affection for the little blonde had only grown through the Goldman debacle. Brenda had leaned on Sharon more than anyone else, and Sharon had found herself overcome with the desire to, above all else, protect the Deputy Chief. Her admiration had grown until she looked forward to their routine interactions more than any other part of her day. And until she'd snapped and kissed her, Sharon hadn't taken the time to consider _why_. The answer, she feared, might destroy her. She knew she needed to say something, and spewed out the first words that came to mind.

"How the fuck have you been looking at me?" she asked bemusedly, and Brenda laughed out loud.

"I have no idea," she said, shaking her head, and the tension in the room shattered like a warm glass on a cold day.

Sharon rose from behind the desk and crossed to stand in front of Brenda. She reached out and tenderly tucked a renegade curl behind one of Brenda's ears.

Brenda blushed, but true to form, did not keep her mouth shut, not allowing even one single moment of blessed silence before she spoke.

"I came over last night because I wanted to see you. And I don't want that to be the last time."

Sharon smiled. She didn't want that either.

Brenda looked up at her shyly through thick eyelashes, and her voice seemed almost childlike in its hopefulness when she asked, "Can I come over again sometime?"

And because she was utterly adorable, and because she had valiantly faced Sharon's wrath to tell her the truth and mend her broken heart, Sharon smiled. She leaned forward and dropped a kiss on Brenda's cheek.

"You can come over whenever you want," she said. She meant it, too, no matter how much she wished she didn't. Nothing had really been solved here. She knew now that Brenda cared, maybe as much as Sharon herself did, but she didn't know what Brenda would do about her husband. The morning sunlight streaming through the window glinted off the diamond on Brenda's hand, and left Sharon cold.

The coldness only lasted a moment, however, as Brenda rose to her feet and wrapped her arms around Sharon, claiming her mouth in a hungry kiss. For a moment Sharon allowed herself to get lost in the feel of Brenda, her warmth and her softness, her taste. _You're just something I need; _the words came back to her.

_You're something I need, too._

**Brenda**

How long they stayed like that, lips and tongues battling to get closer, bodies leaning, hands roaming, Brenda didn't know. Sharon did eventually ease them apart, panting slightly, face attractively flushed.

Sharon smiled and ran her fingers through her glorious wealth of hair. "We can't do this here," she said with an almost sad little smile, the war between Captain Raydor's rules and Sharon's own desires evident on her face. "Contrary to my recent behavior, I would prefer to remain professional at work."

_My Captain Raydor,_ Brenda thought, and not for the first time found herself filled with a sort of pride for the dark haired woman. _Mine._

"It's ok, I should probably get back to my office," she said, which was actually true. Good Lord but she had a lot to do, and no time to do it in.

"You're busy," Sharon agreed, taking Brenda by the hand, briefly squeezing her fingers before leading her towards the door.

Sharon stopped with her hand on the doorknob, and Brenda could almost feel the wheels turning in the other woman's head. How would they handle this? How could they move forward? Was Brenda really going to cheat on her husband? Once she walked out that door, weren't they consciously choosing to do something…dirty?

"It'll be ok," Sharon murmured to no one in particular, and turned to face Brenda. She cupped her chin in a gentle hand and leaned forward, dropping a chaste kiss on her forehead before opening the door.

"I'll call you," Brenda said, and she wished there was some way for her to explain to Sharon that she wasn't just saying the words, she really was going to call, she really did want to see her again.

She wanted to see her tonight. The thought had insinuated itself in her mind almost from the moment she'd woken to the feel of Sharon's lips against her skin. She wanted to go to Sharon's house when she got off work, wanted to soak in her bath tub, to sleep between her sheets, the comforting warmth of her Captain Raydor wrapped around her. She was almost shocked by how badly she wanted it, by how often she'd found herself playing the scenario through in her mind.

She knew better, of course, and she tried to remind herself of that fact as she exited the Captain's neat office and headed towards her squad. She knew she had to go home to her husband. Fritz deserved some kind of explanation after she'd spent the night with another woman. Brenda wasn't looking forward to that particular conversation.


End file.
